


The Never-Ending Night

by Arrestzelle



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, M/M, Mutter Era, Quiet Sex, Rimming, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 14:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18918928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrestzelle/pseuds/Arrestzelle
Summary: Paul finds Schneider reading in the secrecy of his bed in the tour bus, late at night when the others have long been asleep. He decides to interrupt.





	The Never-Ending Night

The settled serenity of a tour bus at night is one of Paul’s favorite things. The sherbet painting of a setting sun becoming the constellation of stars which they pass by, endless in the canvas they can call their own. Paul revels in the quietness. The stillness. The never-ending night. Moments where he would question if the sun would ever come, if day would ever return. If he will live in the secrecy of the night forever. He almost doesn’t want the sun to come. The feeling of being alone with only peace is one he enjoys too greatly.

He can hear Till’s deep snoring, an almost comforting sound, as annoying as it can be at times. The silence of Flake and Ollie. The grumbling of Richard, always talking in his sleep. The telltale rustling of Schneider turning the pages of his incredibly tedious book (Paul has inspected it before without Schneider’s knowing—just an autobiography of some unimpressive guy who finds himself a genius worth knowing).

Sitting with his elbow propped against the table in the center of the little kitchen, cheek in his palm, Paul gazes out beyond the drawn drapes of the wide window above the table. Tracing the wildly changing shapes and shadows of the scenery with enthralled eyes. Only when this moment of tranquility becomes too long and tiresome does he lose interest. He drops his hand from his cheek and glances out towards the darkness of the tour bus. With his adjusted eyes, he can make out the shapes of the bunk beds. The illumination of Schneider’s nightlight can be seen beyond the privacy curtain, regardless.

Rising from the seat, Paul slips out from behind the table and makes his way into the row of beds, closing the curtain behind himself, giving all of them a little more privacy. His and Schneider’s bunks are together, naturally. Paul arches up onto his tiptoes and secretly peels back Schneider’s privacy curtain, just enough to peek in. Schneider is slumped against a wall, legs crossed, book cradled in broad hands. His blanket is draped across his legs. His heavy blue eyes flick up to train on Paul’s. Paul grins at him through the tiny opening and then slinks his hand up and across the bed, scrambling towards him like a spider. He grabs his ankle.

“What are you doing?” Schneider murmurs, fitting his bookmark between his pages, knowing a momentary interruption from Paul could become an hour-long interruption. Paul props his chin on the bed and muses with lidded eyes, “Bothering you. Why are you still reading that boring book?”

“What else do you suggest I read?”

“The label of one of those dinners, perhaps? Or maybe the tag on your shirt?”

“You find those interesting? Why am I not surprised?”

Paul grins and remarks sharply in a harsh whisper, “I find those more interesting than that kind of garbage, yeah.”

“Who cares what I read?” Schneider sighs, rolling his eyes as he puts his book aside.

“I’m just giving you a hard time. Can I join you?”

Schneider trains his gaze on him and smiles thinly, arching a brow.

“You’re asking?”

Paul grins a little. He waits patiently, resting his cheek against the bed with a hopeful raise of his eyebrows. Schneider huffs and pats the space beside himself. Paul beams and immediately climbs up; considering his bunk is under Schneider’s, it’s easy to just plant his foot against it and thrust himself up. He climbs on and crawls over Schneider’s lap without hesitation. Schneider’s eyes flicker briefly with surprise, and then softens with subtle bashfulness. His broad hands find Paul’s hips as the smaller man takes a seat in the center of his lap, his legs winding their way around Schneider’s hips.

“There’s not enough room for this,” Schneider mumbles, face warming. Paul’s slender hands cup Schneider’s face, fingers resting across his ears, thumbs on his cheeks. He leans in to kiss him slowly, intimately on the cheek, below his eye. Schneider reflexively closes them, freezing. Paul’s lips are soft against his skin. Lovingly pressing across his cheeks, over his flushed skin, his birthmarks.

“Sure there is,” he whispers, pulling back to grin cheekily at Schneider, faces kept close together. Schneider looks into his mischievous gray eyes, finding intent in them. Paul angles his head to kiss him gently on the lips. A slow, light pursing of his mouth against Schneider’s, so softly a tingle goes up Schneider’s spine. Paul gently rests a hand over Schneider’s on his hip, clutches it and lifts it from his body to thread their fingers together, with utter and complete love weaved into the gesture. Schneider melts a bit, sinking back against the pillows.

Paul is suddenly overcome with affection. It swallows him whole, digests him entirely. He pecks Schneider a few more times on the lips and cheek, a collection of firm kisses that don’t deepen. He tries to keep it quiet, but the volume of his adoration deafens the silence. Warmth radiates from the pair, so hotly and overwhelmingly, Schneider is left breathless from the intensity of _Paul._ Paul rests his forehead against Schneider’s, his red locks tickling his forehead.

“I love you,” Paul murmurs, spoken so softly like a secret soon to be suffocated by the passing of the moment. With heat bursting into his face, Schneider strokes his broad hand up from Paul’s hip to rest over the center of his back, eyes closing. The words are trapped in his throat, yet to ascend onto his tongue. When he manages to muster it up, it’s in the form of action rather than through his voice. He brings their linked hands up, turns his head away to kiss the back of Paul’s hand. Face warm, he kisses over his knuckles, as well.

Overcome with his adoration, Paul shifts closer, moving his legs to prop up on his knees. He brings his other arm around Schneider’s shoulders, angles his head to kiss over his strong jaw. The scratch of his developing stubble whispers across his lips. He smooches over his cheek again. Then down over his nose, to settle at his mouth. Schneider tightens his muscular arm around Paul, humming quietly against his lips. Paul soaks in the warmth of him. The feeling of his fingers wound around his own. The sensation of his thin lips pursing against his own, seeking further intimacy.

A simmering heat brews in the pit of his belly, a heat unlike his love. He kisses Schneider with equal passion and tenderness. Their mouths move together, a quiet overlapping masked by the rumbling of the bus, the noise of other cars passing beyond the walls. Paul breaks away from him, if only to ease off his sweater, exposing a defined chest and his soft abs. Schneider’s big, calloused hands latch onto his skin immediately; absorbing the feeling of it under his touch along his sides, up across his chest. He cups Paul’s strong jaw, draws him in again. Paul happily obliges, leans in to crush their mouths together again.

Schneider’s grip finds his ass. Squeezing so hard through his sweatpants that it has Paul arching up and grunting against his lips. It has blood rushing straight into his dick. Rocking his hips forward, he lets Schneider feel just how hard he makes him by pressing his stiffening shaft to his midsection. He kisses Schneider mindlessly—until Schneider breaks the kiss to wrap both arms around Paul, maneuvering them both to practically throw Paul against the bed. Shocked, Paul looks up at him with wide, alarmed eyes before he realizes the wilder Schneider has emerged. Then he grins, his expression becoming pleased and mischievous.

Rough fingers curl into the waistband of his sweatpants and tugs them down, exposing Paul’s briefs and shapely legs. Paul curls his legs for Schneider to strip it off entirely, throwing it into the corner with his abandoned book. Schneider’s hands squeeze around his muscular thighs, pulling his legs apart to slot between them.

“Shh!” Paul hisses, “You’re being so loud!”

“It’s fine,” Schneider murmurs, stripping off his camouflage-patterned tank top to reveal his muscular chest and stomach. Paul is immediately distracted. He reaches out to stroke his hands down Schneider’s biceps, slender fingers following the swell of his muscle.

“You are so handsome,” Paul whispers, flicking his amorous gray eyes up towards Schneider’s flushed face. Admiring him further, he glances across his heart-shaped lips, his sharp cheekbones, his Roman nose, his breathlessly gorgeous sapphire irises. Paul sinks into the beauty of them whenever Schneider looks at him. Especially like this, with desire, with intent, with a deep, guttural desire only for _him_. Schneider smiles faintly, a slight arch of those lovely thin lips.

“Come on,” he murmurs with a grin growing across his face, “Let’s hear something else, Paul.”

Exasperation. Denial.

“Fine,” Paul says simply with a smile, “You are beautiful. And gorgeous. A sight for sore eyes. A work of God. Looking at you makes my heart sing.”

Schneider momentarily looks surprised, and then flustered. He frowns, brows knitting with obvious embarrassment in those eyes.

“Don’t be such a romantic! You’ll kill the mood.”

“Alright, alright,” Paul whispers, giggling. He reaches down to unbutton Schneider’s pants, watching himself slip a hand in to stroke the palm of it up along the arch of Schneider’s stiffening cock. He flicks his gaze up to meet Schneider’s once more.

“Will this help?” he teases softly, while squeezing his fingers around him. Schneider’s eyes birth fire, his jaw clenching. The humming of the bus, the rumbling of the passing cars surrounds them as Schneider leans in to playfully bite Paul’s bottom lip between his teeth. Paul grunts, looks up towards the ceiling with a knit brow as Schneider pulls back, pain bursting throughout his lip. He grips his shaft tight enough it has Schneider growling softly under his breath, arching his hips forward. Paul grins, despite his throbbing bottom lip, and looks at him with a smug expression.

“Don’t you think we should get this off of you?” he muses. Schneider huffs. He nods a little. Paul hooks his fingers into the waistbands of both his pants and boxers. He begins wiggling them down, but Schneider gently grips his wrist and momentarily pulls away from his grasp. He takes a second to undress himself, bundling the remainder of his clothing in the corner with the other pieces. Then he turns to Paul. Paul expects it when he grabs onto his briefs and pulls them down and off his muscular legs, his stiff cock flipping up against his belly.

Now bare of any barriers, Paul props up on an elbow and reaches out for him, saying quietly with gentler eyes, “Come closer. I want to feel you.”

A slight smile grows on Schneider’s face. He obliges, moving to lay on his side beside the smaller man. Paul shifts closer, presses himself against Schneider, threading their legs together, hands exploring across Schneider’s sides. The feeling of Schneider’s naked body against his own is the most wholesome, fulfilling sensation. His heart feels absolutely full.

Schneider has other ideas. His hand slides around his hip to grasp his ass, squeezing hard again while he bites across Paul’s ear—down along the shell, to catch the earlobe between his teeth, his gauge clicking against his teeth. It earns a gasp from the older man. He tightens his arm around Schneider’s shoulders, hand clutching at him. Schneider knows damn well what that does to him. The hand squeezing his ass ventures further to touch him more intimately, fingers pressing against him firmly enough it has Paul arching his back and sucking in a breath.

“Let me eat you out?” Schneider whispers into his ear, his voice gruff, evident of his arousal. Paul exhales heavily. He nods. Slowly, they unravel, legs untangling, hands disconnecting. He turns over onto his elbows and knees, hanging his head. He peeks between his legs to see Schneider shifting closer. His broad hands stroke up along the back of his thighs, to grip his cute ass and spread him open. Paul blushes up to his ears, skin burning. He tries not to think about how long it’s been since he showered. Schneider doesn’t seem to care.

He leans in and bites a mouthful of his ass—Paul pivots forward slightly and gasps. He then giggles and peeks back at him. Schneider is always frisky and playful when he’s turned on. Face flushed, Schneider flicks his piercing eyes up towards him as he leans in to roam the flat width of his tongue up from his balls to his asshole. And shameless. An aroused Schneider is shameless.

“God, Schneider…” Paul breathes, hanging his head again, hands weakly clutching at the covers of the bed. Thankfully, their breathing and the very telltale sounds of Schneider licking over him is drowned out easily by the moving bus. Paul hides his face in the sheets, head angled enough for him to pant without strain. The feeling of Schneider’s hands roaming up over his muscular thighs to curl around his hips and squeeze, thumbs digging into his skin, has a burst of heat blooming in Paul’s belly. He grunts.

Lost in the haze of his arousal, Paul lets a wad of spit drip into his palm before reaching down to grip his stiff cock, waiting patiently between his clenched thighs. He breathes a soft moan as he begins to stroke at himself, eyes rolling shut. Schneider shifts closer and begins to lick into him with enthusiasm, tongue curling into his hole repeatedly, pressing and pushing and retracting. Paul gets off more on the knowledge that _this_ gets _Schneider_ off. He can hear his labored breathing, can sense the enthusiasm in every touch, every squeeze, every lick. The sound of pleasure Schneider makes when he hears the slick noise of Paul touching himself has Paul smiling weakly into the bed.

Giving his aching jaw a break, Schneider sits back, bringing a hand in to press his thumb to his wet asshole. Watching with intense arousal and fiery eyes, he pushes it in slowly, but firmly. Paul grunts. Schneider doesn’t hesitate to fuck him with his thumb: withdrawing, stroking the pad of it across the wrinkled skin, pushing in again—and repeat until Paul is looser and more receptive. Until it’s easy to pop his thumb in and out of him. By then, Paul is grunting into the covers, his arousal clouding his mind, and just enough of his sense of judgment for him to forget to hold his tongue. Schneider is well-aware of this.

“Shhh,” Schneider hushes him, leaning in to kiss him on the small of the back, “Try and be quiet while I take you.”

Paul swallows his quiet moaning. He nods into the sheets, the back of his neck almost as red as his wild hair. Silence replaces their voices. Shared between them is only the sound of Paul languidly stroking at himself, and Schneider leaning in to begin eating him out again. He licks into him slowly, letting his hot tongue lathe across him, a repetitive stroking motion which he intensifies by pushing harder and harder, until his tongue is in his ass and Paul is choking back little grunts. Schneider reaches around, nudging aside Paul’s hand, and replaces his grip with his own. He begins tugging at his cock in a downwards pull while tonguefucking him.

Clutching at the covers, Paul’s eyes roll shut as he gasps quietly into the sheets. The simmering heat swelling and swelling in his belly washes over him, sending waves of warmth throughout his body, from the tips of his ears to his toes. He begins to quiver, barely able to hold himself up on his knees at this point.

“Hurry up,” Paul breathes, sliding his hand across the sheets to knock it against Schneider’s thigh. Schneider grunts—it’s a bit hard to respond when his tongue is in his ass. He sits back, licking his lips, and strokes his hand up over Paul’s clenched thigh to begin rubbing at his loosened hole with a thumb as he murmurs thickly, “What do you want? Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Paul whispers, back curling submissively as he hides his face in the crook of his elbow, “Get on top of me.”

“I need to grab the lube,” Schneider murmurs. Paul shudders when he feels the other man kiss gently over the small of his back. His developing facial hair is sharp against his skin. The rumbling of the bus is so loud, Paul can barely hear the soft smooching sounds Schneider’s lips make as he kisses down over his asscheek, before rising. Paul lifts his head to watch the other man, admiring the length of his muscular legs, the broadness of his back, the confidence in his shoulders. He quietly brushes aside the curtain and slips down from the top bunk. Paul peeks past the curtain, amused he chose to exit totally naked. He seems to not care if the others see anything.

Paul glances over the other beds—he sees Till sprawled out, still snoring away. Flake curled up. Ollie facing the wall, arms raised up above his head in a relaxed position against the pillows. Richard’s mumbling has quieted, but Paul can see his sleeping face from here. Well, good. It gives him some peace of mind, knowing they’re all still rather unaware. He glances over to see Schneider digging in his bag, kneeling at Paul’s bed. He grabs the obscure, little bottle. Those piercing blue eyes flick up to meet his. Paul bites his lip, quelling a grin. He sits back as Schneider rises and rejoins him behind the curtain, fixing it back into place.

“I’ll handle it,” he says lowly, “Back how you were, Paul.”

Finding himself unusually flustered, Paul nods. He arranges himself so he’s low on his knees, propped up on his elbows. He peeks back, watching as Schneider squeezes lube into his hand. He then wipes it down between Paul’s asscheeks. Paul shudders. Schneider is quick to push two fingers deep into his ass, slickened by the lube. Paul groans. The intense, almost strange feeling is overwhelming. But it’s more pleasurable than uncomfortable.

Brow furrowing, Paul’s mouth falls open while his eyes close. Schneider’s fingers inside of him is another level of enjoyment. Having Schneider do this to him.

It seems to be so brief. Schneider fingers him with assuredness, a back and forth push and pull that has Paul grunting under his breath. Only when satisfied does he withdraw his slick fingers, grab the lube, and squeeze more out into his hand. Paul hears the slick sound of him stroking it over himself. And then the squeak-shift of the bed when he plants one foot on the bed for leverage, moving closer to the smaller man. Paul watches past his shoulder, sees Schneider grip his slick cock in a broad hand, angling his hips to rub it up against Paul’s asshole. Paul holds his breath.

With his fist keeping himself firmly in place, other hand gripping Paul’s asscheek, Schneider begins to push in. Paul groans softly—the initial penetration is always so good. Schneider grunts under his breath behind him. He steadily, slowly pushes deeper into Paul, until his pelvis is pressed up against him. Paul withholds his moaning. He manages to be quiet, save for his harsh breathing. Schneider’s calloused hands are stroking over his sides, roaming around to run across his back, caressing the heat of him, the constellation of freckles on his skin.

“Schneider,” Paul breathes, melting underneath his touch. Schneider squeezes gentle handfuls of his sides. Paul shudders when he feels loving lips brush against his shoulder blade, his neck, the back of his head, a nose submerged in his red locks. Then Schneider leans back again, stroking his broad hands back and forth over Paul’s sides.

Slowly, he pulls out with a careful withdrawal of his hips. Paul lets out a shuddering breath. He keeps his head bowed, hands clutching at the covers, shoulders high. Schneider rocks forward again, firmly with his hips pushing against Paul’s ass. Paul grunts. Schneider repeats the motion—a gradual back and forth that has Paul holding his breath, restraining his noises of both pain and pleasure. Schneider is not exactly small in this sense.

But soon enough, the push and pull becomes easier, smoother. Paul’s body doesn’t fight it now. Schneider leans forward, sliding his hands from Paul’s sides to plant them on the bed. With his chest against Paul’s back, nuzzling into his wild, red hair, it soothes the smaller man. He melts a bit underneath his weight, comforted by it. He reaches back to curl a hand around the back of Schneider’s head, fingers roaming across shaven skin, soon meeting the soft hair of his mohawk. He curls his fingers into it. Schneider brings one hand up, turning his face out of Paul’s hair if only to spit into his palm. Reaching down, he grips Paul’s stiff cock. He begins to stroke at him languidly. Paul makes a choked noise, held in his throat.

“So hard for me,” Schneider intimately whispers into Paul’s ear, “You like it when I fuck your ass like this, don’t you?”

Paul takes a second to regather his thoughts, panting into the sheets. He huffs a weak laugh and murmurs in a slur, “You want me to talk dirty for once, Schneider? Usually you’re stuffing something in my mouth because of it.”

“Yeah, because you go way too far,” Schneider murmurs, “You purposefully try to embarrass me. This is different.”

“…Not all the time. I know what to say to get you going, you big perv.”

“I know.”

“For the record, I do enjoy this particular activity, yes.”

Schneider snorts. He whispers with a feigned breathlessness in his voice, “Oh, wow, how sexy.”

Paul giggles and then strokes his hand down from Schneider’s head to trace his jaw with a fingertip, saying quietly, “Alright, shush now.”

Agreeing, Schneider kisses him on the head and readjusts his fists on the bed. He begins to pump his hips, his pelvis gently snapping against Paul’s ass. Paul gasps sharply into the bed. The force of his thrusting is so controlled, it makes no sound save for the slickness of the lube. Paul brings a hand up to cup it over his own mouth. He closes his eyes. Schneider is panting, his exhales ghosting across Paul’s back. He strokes at Paul’s shaft tightly, pulling at him with a roughness that nearly hurts—but he knows exactly what he’s doing. Paul is biting onto his tongue to hold his moaning. The need to be silent as they fuck somehow heightens the excitement of it.

It doesn’t last long. Schneider’s thrusting becomes shaky and weak, until he’s kneeling back from Paul, panting, one broad hand stroking down over Paul’s thigh.

“Rest on your side,” Schneider says. Paul moves to face the other man. Surprising Schneider, Paul shifts closer, reaches out to curl both slender hands around his thighs, pushing them apart. He ducks his head without a word. Wide-eyed, Schneider watches, breath held, as Paul grips the base of his cock with one hand, angling it up properly so he can suck it in-between his lips. Schneider gasps. He collapses back on an elbow, watching as Paul begins bobbing his head, repeatedly taking his lengthy cock into his mouth, cheeks sucked in and brow furrowed.

Schneider reaches up to clutch a handful of his messy red locks. Breathing heavily through an agape mouth, Schneider stares, hypnotized by the visual of Paul sucking his dick deeper and deeper into his mouth, those cute pink lips secured tightly around his shaft. His face is flushed, his little eyebrows knit, fingers circled firmly around the base of his length. Paul manages to deepthroat him, nose pressing to his abs—Schneider grunts quietly. To avoid creating noise by choking, Paul withdraws.

With his heavy exhales brushing across Schneider’s skin, Paul shifts closer on his knees, angles his head to kiss over his belly and up over his chest. Schneider releases his hair to instead cup his hand around his jaw, pulling him upwards to forcefully kiss him. Paul hums into it. They kiss briefly, in a few meaningful, hungry overlapping of their lips, before Paul breaks away.

Silently, he flops back against the covers and lays on his side. Smirking up at the other man, Paul gestures behind himself with a turn of his head and a waggle of his eyebrows. Schneider crawls over him and lays behind him. He leans in to nuzzle at the nape of his neck, nose tickled by the buzzed hair there. Paul giggles, barely heard past the rumbling of the bus. He wriggles back to align their bodies intimately.

Bringing a hand between Paul’s thighs, Schneider eases his leg up, locks his muscular arm around it as he properly angles his lower half.

“Put it in for me,” Schneider whispers into his ear. Obliging, Paul reaches down to grip Schneider’s slick cock. He rubs it against himself and holds it in place—Schneider smoothly slides in, pelvis pushed firmly against his ass. Paul groans. Schneider brings his hand up to smother it over his mouth. Paul jerks a hand up to grab onto his wrist, eyes closing. Schneider begins to fuck him with deep rolls of his hips, driving into him steadily in a controlled tempo. Paul moans quietly into his palm, if only for Schneider to feel the vibrations of his pleasure.

“Touch yourself,” Schneider commands quietly. Shakily, Paul nods. He gently pulls away Schneider’s hand, if only to spit into his palm and reach down to obey. He begins touching himself, head tipping back against Schneider’s shoulder with a pleasured expression twisting his features. Schneider instead curls his big hand around Paul’s throat, a more intimate touch than a sinister one.

Continuously, Schneider rolls his hips against Paul, a slow but deep motion that has Paul quietly grunting under his breath with each one. Only when he begins to lose a part of himself does Schneider snap his pelvis against him, fucking him with more force, though not hard or fast enough to create excessive sound.

A rough thrust of his hips, a choked grunt from Paul, a pause, a slow withdrawal, another hard shove of his hips, and then repeat. Schneider is breathing heavily into Paul’s hair at this point, nose submerged within the locks, inhaling his scent with closed eyes. His hand is tight around his throat, holding him possessively, and Paul loves it. He’s stroking at himself eagerly, blatantly enjoying the more forceful screwing.

Only after another minute of this, Schneider suddenly changes it up and rolls them over, earning a breathless noise of surprise from Paul. He accommodates it by spreading his legs and resting on his belly. The thin blankets underneath them end up further tangled around their legs. Paul plants his hands against the bed, bracing himself with an agape mouth and wider eyes. He can feel Schneider resting on top of him, his weight bearing down on him but in a very pleasing way. With his knees, Schneider forces Paul’s legs further apart, and then reaches down to grip his cock, aligns himself, and easily slides back in, deeply, the force of it driving Paul’s hips down into the bed. Paul gasps into the sheets. He can tell Schneider is close. He isn’t this rough unless he’s close.

Without wait, Schneider fucks him with rough, albeit slow, shoves of his hips. Paul groans—loud enough to be concerning. Schneider bears down into him, pausing in his thrusting, and reaches up to smother his mouth again. Panting, Schneider rests his forehead against the back of Paul’s head. Paul moans weakly against his palm, eyes clenched shut. Schneider bears the majority of his weight on him as he begins to pump his hips, returning to the hard, deep pushing of his pelvis against Paul’s ass that has him groaning against his hand, effectively muffled.

Paul claws at the covers with one hand, the other pushing underneath their bodies to begin touching himself again, arm moving with desperation. Suddenly, Schneider is grunting quietly, amplified to Paul with how close his mouth is to his ear. His thrusting becomes slower but deeper, hard enough to shove Paul’s hips into the bed.

Paul can feel him trembling on top of him, his legs locking up against his. His hand drops from Paul’s mouth to grab onto his wrist and squeeze. Paul pants heavily, lowers his head to begin mindlessly kissing over Schneider’s whitened knuckles and wrist.

With finality, Schneider thrusts thrice more before he forces his pelvis firmly against Paul’s ass, locked up and shaking. Paul continues touching himself, shakily, barely able to function at this point. Schneider weakly rolls his hips against him a few more times, earning soft moans from the smaller man. Then Schneider stops, takes a moment to recuperate, before slowly pulling out. Paul barely registers what Schneider is doing, so enveloped in his own desperation to get off, before hands are grabbing his hips and turning him over. Paul weakly moves to accommodate it.

He flops back against the sheets, looks up at Schneider weakly with a heaving chest and sweat-slickened skin. Schneider meets his gaze, plants a hand on the bed and leans in to kiss him fleetingly in a firm peck which Paul returns. Then Schneider moves back again, pushing apart Paul’s legs. He brushes off Paul’s hand and replaces it with his mouth. He grips his cock, keeps it in place as he begins to suck him off with a clumsier attempt at a blowjob. It works well enough. Only a minute of Schneider bobbing his head, brow furrowed and cheeks sucked in, until Paul grits his teeth, watching through narrowed eyes as he chokes out, “Coming.”

Schneider pulls off immediately. Blue eyes fiery, he meets Paul’s gaze and says, “Touch yourself.”

Paul’s hand flies down to do just that; he begins stroking at himself while Schneider ducks his head back down. He mouths wetly over Paul’s quivering, freckled thighs, even angling his head to lick at his balls in bashful flicks of his tongue. He shifts close enough he can feel Paul’s knuckles against his cheek as he pulls at himself. Only when Schneider nuzzles into his groin, cheek against his thigh, eyelashes tickling him, tongue curled under his balls, does Paul groan and collapse off the precipice, into the crashing waves of euphoria below.

His thighs clench and flex around Schneider, his heels digging into Schneider’s sides, free hand pulling up a fistful of the sheets. His cum flies out to land across his own belly and chest—the remaining droplets rush down over his fingers, to ultimately descend onto Schneider’s tongue.

Paul is clenching his teeth, repressing his mindless moans that fight to burst forth. His body quivers with the tremendous aftershocks of his orgasm. He then collapses back onto the bed, legs falling open easily. Schneider laughs to himself, amused by Paul’s state, and then licks up the remaining mess of his cum—a bit boldly, since they’re both well-aware he isn’t fond of the taste nor texture of semen. Paul finds it incredibly hot, and dimly wonders if a second round would be pushing it.

It seems so. Schneider gets up, plants a hand on the bed for leverage to kiss Paul’s forehead, before he murmurs, “I’ll grab a rag from the bathroom.”

Looking up into his fond blue eyes, Paul smiles and nods. He reaches up to stroke at his jaw—with his soiled fingers.

“Thanks, Schneider.”

Hand flying up, Schneider recoils and grimaces at him as he wipes at his jaw. Paul nearly bursts out laughing. He just giggles obscenely with the biggest grin on his face while waggling his dirty fingers at him.

“You know what, never mind,” Schneider hisses, “Sleep with your cum-hand. See if I care.”

“Oh, but you know this ‘cum-hand’ will just end up in your hair, Schneider. Better go get that rag.”

“I hate you.”

“You know, if you want, you can just lick it off.”

Paul winks at him, once again waggling his fingers, enticingly. Schneider flips him off as he slaps aside the curtain with his other hand, before climbing down from the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> babypaulchen.tumblr.com


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